Masks
by LED Shine
Summary: Sent away from a party to heal an old friend. What's a girl to do? A semi-Halloween Special. Kakasaku. Oneshot.


**Masks**

_"They say a man will hide behind a mask, but I say give a man a mask and he will show you his true face."_

--

She blew through his door like red, gusty wind. The costume she was wearing curled and queued and feathered and bunched and reached in a mad swirling and sweeping of deepest crimson. He was confused at first, because he couldn't see the pink of her hair for a large, feathered hat and her green eyes were hidden behind the red and black lace of the mask she wore in the most fashionable style of masquerades. He thought she was a woman calling on his company, which never happened, but given that he could barely move without spasming in pain it would be just his luck that a beautiful woman would knock on this night of all nights. He was tempted to try the impossible and show her a good time despite stated pain, but she took one step in the room and he knew there would be hell to pay if he so much as touched her inappropriately. It was Sakura.

"Trick or treat," she said as she waltzed into the room. "You couldn't have just gone to the hospital?"

"What's with the get up?" he asked, from the floor of his living room.

"If you had been here in the last two weeks, you would know there's a Halloween party at the hokage's mansion, compliments of Tsunade-shishou. Everyone's there. That's why I'm here instead of some medic in training. They all got the night off while the hokage's apprentice, who happened to be sitting right next to our lovely hokage when the news of your return came by, was sent on a genin mission to save you from your stubborn self and natural aversion to any medical institution. Now, is there a reason you're sitting on the floor or are you just practicing your yoga?"

"It looks nice. Very… pouffy."

She smiled brightly and spun for him, making sure he saw every view with a seemingly elated swishing and swaying of skirts. "I was hoping you would say something. I was going for French courtesan. Sai said I looked like a cabaret slut. Too much cleavage you think?"

"Sorry you missed the party," he said.

She smiled at him again and sauntered over, holding up her skirts like the lady she was emulating. "Don't worry about it. It was getting pretty dull anyway. No one would dance with me and the food wasn't that good. I was almost glad when Tsunade-shishou sent me. Don't tell her that though. Right now I am extremely pissed and offended that a senior medic such as myself would be sent on such a menial task. As far as she knows, at least. You're doing a piss poor job bandaging that by the way."

The bandages were indeed loose, but he could only do so much when his ribs seared with every movement.

"You shouldn't swear like that," he answered

"Why? Will I grow horns and demon's tail like my mother always said? I think that would go really well with this costume, ne?"

Her smile was sarcastic. She sat down behind him and he couldn't see how she smiled when she saw the bruising on him. She ran her hands along his bare back and he winced when she found a sore spot. The sheer and lace of her dress tickled his skin. Her arms came around and felt along his shirtless chest. It was sensual, as most of her movements were, but he was used to this, accustomed to this. She knew his body inside and out: every fiber, every sinew, every surly bone. Everything except the face under his ever present mask.

"Your ribs are bruised and the last one on your right side is fractured. I can fix it now with a little chakra, or you can wear a cast and let it heal naturally. It's your choice."

"Fix it, please."

Her hands became both warm and cool, the feel of her chakra divided evenly between the two sensations. Most medics made up their mind and were either hot or cold, to varying degrees. Only Tsunade was stubborn enough to employ both and only Sakura made it twice as comforting. When she was done, he could move again and used this advantage to turn himself to face her. He didn't bother with a shirt. She had seen all of him, at various times on various operating tables. He could remove his pants this very moment and she wouldn't even bat an eyelash. Most likely. Either way, he had nothing to hide from other than what was hidden beneath his mask, so he chose to remain bare before her. The cool night air was soothing anyway and made a nice contrast to the warmth of her hands as they settled on his shoulders until they became both warm and cool at the same time.

Her eyes were closed in concentration. He could just see them through the slits in her mask. The red fabric only covered her nose and higher, but it still irritated him. He kept trying to see under it, or around it, or maybe through it. He wanted to see bright green eyes, not red frills and black lace. He gracefully untied the crimson silk knot binding the mask to her face and let it fall ungracefully in her lap. The sensation of her chakra stopped and he was rewarded with green pools of questioning.

"You were different with it on," he explained.

Her hands were gone off his shoulders and soon rested in her lap next to the mask. She fiddled with it as she sat back in a more comfortable position.

"You really should have been at the party," she said with a shy blush he could now see. "Everyone was in masks and it was hard to tell who was who. They were all so wild and behaving differently than themselves. It's strange. It's like when they put on those masks, everyone just got more like themselves, like they had been holding back before and they simply didn't care now that we couldn't see their faces. But then I look at you and I remember that I've only ever seen you in a mask. So I have to wonder if I'm seeing more of you or if I'm seeing less."

He didn't say anything. He only took off her silly hat and laid it on the floor next to her. He only stared at her.

She blushed as if there was something embarrassing about her philosophical words and shook her head and smiled.

"Sorry. I think I've had too much wine."

"How much?" His curiosity peaked.

"Half a glass," she said bashfully. "Maybe a little more."

He nodded but said nothing to what they both knew was far too little wine to affect her sharp mind. He reclined where he sat, his arms willing to support him as he took in the sight of Sakura all dressed up and maskless. He openly stared.

"What? What is it? Is there something on my face? What?"

He watched her face fall and laughed at what she said next.

"Oh, my God. I really do look like a cabaret slut, don't I?"

Instead of answering, he chuckled and rolled to his feet, sweeping her up with him. For a moment, she was completely in his arms until he reluctantly set her down to stand on her own power. It was the way she preferred, he knew. He kissed her forehead and she blushed, wiping away the feel of cloth-covered lips with a lacy, gloved hand.

"What was that for?" she asked testily.

"Don't worry about it. Go back to your party, Sakura."

He handed her back her mask and bent to pick up her hat and showed her to the door so he could send her back on her merry way. He would only stand in her way.

"You could come too, you know. You look like a scarecrow enough as it," she said with a friendly jab to the rib she had mended. "Everyone would love to see you."

He smiled at her, but all she could see of it was the crinkle of his eyes. "Have fun, Sakura."

He left her to find her own way out, only to turn back to her when she called his name.

"Kakashi. Was it less or more?"

"With you?"

She nodded.

"It's always been more."

He showed her a back that was bare except for the bandages she left. He heard the door shut quietly and sighed. He made his way over to the sofa and sank into it wearily, a vision of curling red wind and bright green eyes swirling through his mind like a hurricane bent on displaying its power, full of both warm and cold and sparking lightning in between.

A shy knock on his door broke him from his thoughts and he rose to answer the late night caller. It was that wind again, huffing beautifully at his doorstep and blowing him away.

"Even if I go, no one will dance with me," she said with a petulant crossing of her slender, powerful arms. "So, you're going to dance with me."

"I don't think…"

"It's not so hard. Come on, Scarecrow. You're coming with me."

And he did. What else was a scarecrow supposed to do when he was carried away by a hurricane?

--

**Author's Note**

I do not own Naruto. I don't remember where I got the quote, but I know it's not mine. All rights are reserved to their original owners. My first fic under this account. Let me know what you think.

LED


End file.
